I just read a little news article about a Justin Beiber look alike being teased by fans at a basketball game. Turns out the kid is deaf and couldn't hear their taunts anyway. It got me to thinking that if People magazine were to do a 'Prettiest man alive' contest he'd not only win, he wouldn't have any real competition that I can think of. I cannot, offhand, think of anyone, male or female, with a more beautiful face than Justin Beiber.
I feel like I should get to the point of this blog now, but I don't really have one. This is just me procrastinating, when I should be working on my story. My current plan is to finish a 10-15 thousand word novella and submit it to Entangled Publishing by the end of the month. I'm almost to 7,000 words and it's coming along well. I like the characters. I like the story. So why am I having so much trouble keeping my butt planted on this stool and my mind on Night With Johnny? After two or three sentances I check the word count, as if the right number of words will mean that it's finished. The problem is that endings are so darned hard! Beginnings are fun and exciting! In the beginning anything can happen. By the end, it has to be clear that something significant has happened. It's romance, so we all know what that something is. Sex, love, and happily ever after. Easy right?
Yeah, uh-huh, right.
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